


Alternate Ending One for Catch Two Tigers: Trading Cages

by achievemenhunter



Series: Hunting the Hunters (Mavinwood Psychoteeth/Cop AU) [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:46:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3141593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achievemenhunter/pseuds/achievemenhunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first alternate ending for Catch Two Tigers.</p><p>Somehow, things resolve without anyone actually being killed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternate Ending One for Catch Two Tigers: Trading Cages

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the first alternate ending! It picks up partway through Chapter 12. This is largely for those who read the rest of the story but didn't feel they could stomach the character death scene, and as such I have included the part of Chapter 12 that this story still follows. If you _have_ already read the entirety of Chapter 12, feel free to skip down to the line break, which will look like this: 
> 
> ~* * *~
> 
> Content warnings for blood, imprisonment and noncon.
> 
> Sorry it took so long for me to get this one out. Enjoy!

Gavin heard Michael's frenzied shuffling, but it took him a few moments to work up the courage to look over at his friend. He gasped in shock when he finally uncovered his eyes and saw the knife the other detective was trying to properly place against one of his cuffs.

 

Michael heard the noise and grinned savagely over at him. "Got Haywood's knife," he said unnecessarily, eyes alight at the prospect of escape. But Gavin barely heard him, gaze travelling along the bruises and stains Ryan had left on Michael's body.

 

The Brit's eyes were wide and wet. "I'm so sorry, Michael. You were right, he doesn't love me. He wouldn't have done that if he did. But…" his voice quavered. "There's a stupid dumb idiot part of me that still loves him, I think." He dropped his head into his hands again. "I don't want to at all anymore."

 

Gritting his teeth, Michael repositioned the knife, holding it awkwardly as he dragged the blade over leather, trying to find some purchase. "Gav, look at me. We can do this, okay? I'm gonna cut off these cuffs, I'm-" he grunted in pain as the knife slipped and cut into the side of his palm, "-gonna undo yours, we're both going to beat the shit out of Haywood if he tries to stop us, and then we're getting the fuck out of here. Can I count on you for that?"

 

Gavin hesitated. "I think so. I'll try my best, Michael." His eyes were glued once more to the other detective's bruises. "I don't want him to do that to you ever again."

 

The redhead smiled without humour, finally finding traction for the blade. "'Good to hear," he muttered, grimacing as he caught his forearm with the tip of the knife, a thin line of blood welling up and dribbling down his arm.

 

~* * *~

 

He sawed frantically at the leather, cursing profusely every time that his unwieldy grip meant that the knife dug into his flesh. His blood soaked into the cuffs, making them slippery, but he kept doggedly on. He crowed in triumph as he finally broke through the last few strands, grinning fiercely as his wrist slipped free. The holding clasp of his other cuff was now mangled, and with a bit of elbow grease that hand was free too. Michael darted across the room, keeping his footsteps as light as he could, and began to work at Gavin's cuffs. His fingers trembled, impeding his work, and he took a breath to calm himself.

 

Moments later, the leather around Gavin's wrists slipped free. Michael almost started crying with joy, and he had to bite back his relieved laughter as he pulled Gavin up from his bed and into a fierce hug.

 

The Brit's legs were weak with almost two weeks of underuse, but he still managed to stand.

 

"What now?" he whispered, looking up at Michael as the hug ended.

 

Making sure Gavin could stay upright on his own, Michael crossed the room again and scooped up the knife he'd left on the covers. He gripped it tightly, eyes grim and mouth firm. "Next time Ryan comes back in, we ambush him."

 

Gavin nodded cautiously. "What do you need me to do?"

 

Michael hesitated. While it was obvious Gavin no longer implicitly trusted Ryan, Michael wasn't sure that he could count on him to fight the older man. Then again, Michael was the one with the knife, so the redhead would be the more active participant in their escape. He didn't want Gavin to be close by when he used the knife on Ryan, just in case the Brit had a last second change of heart and stopped Michael from killing their captor. That would spell the end of it for both of the detectives, he knew.

 

Because he didn't much care what it took, he was going to kill Ryan for what he'd done.

 

He licked his lips, realising he'd gone too long without answering Gavin. "You stay on your bed," he said eventually. "Keep your back facing the wall and your arms tucked in. Your bed's closest to the door and he'll see you first, he'll think you're still locked up. I'll be on the other side of the door, I'll take him by surprise, and we'll ride off into the fucking sunset, okay?"

 

Gavin managed a weak smile. "Okay, Michael." He sank back onto his bed, tucking his feet beneath him as he watched Michael cross over to the door. "How long d'you think he'll be?" he asked.

 

The redhead shrugged, getting into a ready stance. He balanced lightly on the balls of his feet, knife poised to strike. Gavin tried not to look at the blade, both for the fact that it was still stained with Michael's blood from when he'd freed himself, and the fact that the next time it would be used would be with the intention of hurting Ryan. He wasn't sure if he was actually ready to deal with that yet.

 

"Dunno. Haywood probably wants me to stew for a while, but he could still be back any minute." His eyes flicked to Gavin's momentarily, attempting a reassuring smile. "Doesn't matter how long, I'll be ready for him."

 

Gavin nodded and got into position, curling up with the chains tucked near his belly. His eyes closed, more out of boredom than any sort of desire for sleep - he might have been tired, but he knew that even if it took hours before Ryan returned, he was far too keyed up to fall into even the lightest of dozes.

 

In the end, it was little under twenty minutes before the door opened.

 

Michael launched forward, knife swinging, only beginning to pull back when he realised the man coming through the door had dark hair and a handlebar moustache and very definitely wasn't Ryan, was actually the Chief of Police, and he had a moment of confusion before he dropped the knife like it had burned him. His blood and Geoff's coated the blade, and Geoff fell back with a cry. Michael's hands automatically went up in a gesture of surrender, and they started to shake. Armed officers swept in behind Geoff, checking the room and retreating once they had ascertained that it was clear save for the men they were rescuing.

 

"Jesus Christ, you almost took my fucking eye out," Geoff cursed at him, red smearing beneath his fingertips as he held one hand against his cheek.

 

His eyes suddenly softened. "Jesus Christ," he repeated, this time at a whisper, as he dragged the younger man into a hug. "You're both actually alive." He clung tight for a few seconds, then cast his gaze over Michael's shoulder. Gavin was watching them, sitting uncertainly at the end of his bed. After everything that had happened the Brit didn't feel sure that he deserved his freedom, or any form of compassion.

 

Of course, Geoff didn't really give him a choice. He gave Michael another squeeze then marched over to Gavin, promptly pulling him to his feet and embracing him fiercely. "I'm so glad you're both okay."

 

"Geoff," Gavin said, voice wobbly, "I’m so sorr-"

 

"Don't you dare apologise," the older man warned. "That's an order. Nothing that happened was your fault, y'hear me? Not your fault."

 

"But-"

 

"Not. Your. Fault." Geoff enunciated clearly, drawing back to look Gavin in the eyes. "Got it?"

 

Gavin nodded feebly, eyes dropping from Geoff's after less than a second. He clearly wasn't in agreement with Geoff's words. Geoff sighed, but let it go for the moment. Things like this took time to heal from.

 

Michael moved to the door, not wanting to be in that room for any longer than he had to be. A few uniformed policemen and women stood in the room next door, cramped for space by everything Ryan had put in the room to ensure that both he and his captives could remain hidden for weeks or even months on end without needing to resupply.

 

His gaze froze on Ray, who had slapped a pair of handcuffs on Ryan and was quietly reading the older man his Miranda rights.

 

Ryan was facing away from Michael, but, almost as if he could feel the detective's eyes on him, he suddenly turned his head. A grin broke out across his face at Michael's deer-in-the-headlights expression. Michael clutched the knife in his hand like a lifeline, but even though he was armed and Ryan was in cuffs, he didn't feel safe.

 

"I win," Ryan said simply, softly, and the words were like a punch to the gut.

 

Mercifully, Geoff noticed him standing rigidly in the doorway, and gently pulled him back into the room and out of Ryan's sight. Gavin clung to their chief's side.

 

"How did you even find us, Geoff?" the Brit asked shakily, his expression concerned as he watched Michael stare blankly at the door.

 

Michael seemed to hear Geoff's through a tunnel, echoing hollowly in his ears. "…Haywood called us. He turned himself in."

 

" _What_ _?_ Why would he do that?"  
 

"Honestly, I don't know. All that really matters is you two are safe now."

 

The words faded into white noise and Michael continued to stare at nothing.

 

He knew why.

 

Ryan had turned himself in because he'd gotten what he wanted. The two detectives were now free, but not before Ryan had broken them both. Even if they managed to scrape themselves back together, they'd never truly be whole again. Their experience had irrevocably changed them. And now, even though he'd been arrested, even though he'd spend the rest of his life in prison, there was no changing that one, unassailable fact.

 

They had lost, and Ryan had won.

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that the epilogue (Chapter 14) of Catch Two Tigers also follows on from this chapter. Read it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1614140/chapters/6337814).


End file.
